


Guesswork and Facts

by Fanfiction_obsession



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Doofenshmirtz gets a hug, Doofenshmirtz needs a hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oh look, POV Perry the Platypus (Phineas and Ferb), Perry gets a hug, Perry needs a hug, Perry the Platypus Needs A Hug, Perryshmirtz - Freeform, perryshmirtz is real, self projection again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29926089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfiction_obsession/pseuds/Fanfiction_obsession
Summary: Everyone in his life guesses.Everyone in his life is wrong.Except for you.(Or: Doofenshmirtz breaks and, despite always helping others, doesn't expect anyone to help him. Perry, of course, helps him. Also cuddles)
Relationships: Heinz Doofenshmirtz & Everyone, Heinz Doofenshmirtz & Perry the Platypus, Heinz Doofenshmirtz & Vanessa Doofenshmirtz, Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus, Vanessa Doofenshmirtz & Perry the Platypus
Kudos: 26





	Guesswork and Facts

**Author's Note:**

> I have been gone for a while, huh? 
> 
> (I'm sorry. I- well I'm working on a book, as in like, a novel book. Which is taking a loooot of my time. That said, I do have a lot of partially-written fics, and I want to try to finally maybe possibly write something for Marvel/Loki because I do love self-projecting onto emotionally scarred characters. So no promises, but hopefully I start writing more fics again) 
> 
> Anyway have yet another episode of shameless self-projection, because I could really, really, use someone knowing exactly how to help me, but I shall settle for Perryshmirtz. :))))))))

Sometimes you pretend you know what you’re doing. You pretend often, a lot, probably more than sometimes. Most of the time actually, you run through your life with an educated series of guesswork and one hand tied behind your back. That’s just the cards the world gave you, and that’s just what you’ll have to deal with. 

But not when it comes to Heinz.  _ Never _ when it comes to Heinz. 

Everyone else in his life dealt with him through guesses, inaccuracies, and handed him struggle after struggle, and he took them all, bore them upon his own back, and never said a word of complaint. Of course he breaks sometimes. He’s only human. Unfortunately, he doesn’t understand that at all. 

To him, it makes sense when others break. He sees Vanessa struggle with high school and struggle with boys, and he can build hundreds of -inators, and zap away hundreds of obnoxious boys, but he can’t get rid of them all. He knows you turn a blind eye to any -inator to help Vanessa, but even without your resistance he knows she has to have struggles, has to have a bit of difficulty. He supports her of course, and when she breaks it’s logical, so logical. She breaks, and he brings her ice cream and warm brownies and they play Kleptocracy in front of the fireplace, until she’s feeling a little bit better. Then they make dinner together, and he teaches her his casserole recipes, and how to properly dice vegetables with a knife.

He never guesses when it comes to Vanessa. He never questions his decisions, never tries something that maybe works, maybe doesn’t. No. He looks at her and he  _ knows _ , knows exactly what she needs, because he knows her and cares about her, more than so many others could. 

He’s the same when you break, because of course he is. He wouldn’t be your idiot if he wasn’t. 

You break, because logically of course you do. You take on too many agent missions, too many side jobs, and you earn so much money because you have to. He doesn’t know where those dollars go, but he knows you earn them like mad, because even when Phineas and Ferb do make money, it never covers the cost of everything. There’s always something that needs to be covered, so you make it your job to cover it, Linda and the boys never the wiser. 

But of course you break. You have too much stress, too much tension in your shoulders and in your life, so when he puts you in a simple trap and you can’t break out of it because you kinda can’t really fucking see straight, probably because you haven’t slept in a while (how many nights has it been again??), he understands. 

He lowers whatever trap it is, cuts you free, takes your trembling fingers in his own, and wraps you up in a lab coat, where the world can’t touch you. He carries you over to the couch and gives you a moment while he makes two mugs of tea, and then he comes back to the couch and you breathe in synchronization, until you have it under control. Then you lose yourself in his side where everything smells like him, and try your best to pay attention to the soap opera on the screen. 

To your slight regret, you’ve never actually been awake through one of those to know what comes next. But only a slight regret. Agents have work to do; you can’t spend all of your time lounging on couches and sleeping wrapped in lab coats. 

And Heinz doesn’t have to know about the lab coat you keep with you, in your lair, for nights when he’s not around, days that get long and you need to breathe with him. He’ll never know, and you’ll take that secret  _ to the grave _ . 

So when everyone around Heinz breaks, he knows exactly what to do, no questions asked. He takes care of everyone, in the way that no one did him, without expecting anything back, but you know better. You know he breaks too. And on one of those particular weekends, you knew exactly what to do. 

He’ll call it a stupid thing. He’ll call it very tiny and very stupid. He lies. 

Vanessa brought home a class pet from social studies. It was a bat, because of course it was. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, while the two of you watch Heinz complete his fifth -inator in the four hours since she’s come home from school, “It’s a bat because everyone thought that would be cool, but I didn’t know we had to take turns bringing it home. I tried to get out of it, but the teacher didn’t believe that people could be allergic to it, and I didn’t have another excuse.” 

You’re half tempted to tell her to throw the damn thing out the window, or let Norm use it as a baseball, but that of course would be cruel and unusual, and not the kind of thing you’re supposed to promote. Plus, Vanessa looks almost terrified that the bat will die in her care, and you’d have to be heartless to allow that. 

Curse your  _ feelings _ , and curse Heinz for giving you them. 

You sign at Vanessa to just keep the bat in her room, and you stroll over to comfort Heinz. It’s gonna be a looooooooong weekend. 

\-------

You stay the whole weekend, because of course you do. You stay and coax Heinz away from his tools, but he fiddles with everything and he can’t concentrate, and he loses Kleptocracy by so much, that you wonder whether it would just be better to send Vanessa to her mother’s. Unfortunately, to Heinz, that would be to admit defeat, and he’d sooner die than do that. Instead, he doesn’t sleep, so neither do you, and the two of you stay up and watch soaps, stay up and play cards. 

As soon as Vanessa goes to school on Monday and takes the darn bat with her, you collapse and Heinz  _ breaks _ . 

His breathing, which has been erratic all weekend, is the first thing to go. It speeds up into dangerous territory, and his hands shake, and he shoves his body against the wall, in the corner, and slides down to the ground, slides down to where he thinks he’s safe, and wraps his arms around his knees and tries to smile at you, because of course this  _ fucking idiot _ tries to  _ smile. _

“O-oh Perry the, Perry the Platypus? You’re still- still here? You can go, I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.” 

The idiot. Does he actually think that you’d  _ leave? _ So many people in his life have left; you are absolutely not going to add one more to that list. 

Because while Vanessa is a child and couldn’t possibly, shouldn’t possibly be expected to know what to do, you do, and it’s no guess. 

You make your way over to him, and you don’t touch him, but you do gesture for him to look at you. You chirr to make sure he’s paying attention, and then you exaggeratedly breathe. In and out, in and out, in and out, until he’s at least trying to get that under control, and then you sign to him, ‘ _ Idiot. I’m not going anywhere. Not leaving, not now, not ever. _ ’ 

He laughs, just a light breathy chuckle that does nothing for the tiny tears rolling down his face, and then, in a voice cracked and far too high pitched says, “I know, I know,” and then, “Might have to leave to get groceries through. I think I cooked too much- you’ll starve to death.” 

You snort and ignore his attempts at humor and focus on his breathing, until you can touch him again, place one tiny paw over his great big trembling hands, and center him back to you, center him back to your paw, center him back to the world. 

It takes a bit, but when he can stand again you walk him over to the couch and make two mugs of tea, one absurdly sweet, and one plan and simple, the way tea should be. You hand his tea to him, careful to have placed it in a spill safe mug, which you keep around for such occasions, and he looks mildly surprised that you have such a thing, let alone knowing when to use it. 

Before he can even ask how you knew that he needed it, you gesture to his still trembling hands, and he nods and swallows. You can practically hear the gears in his head. 

“Um Perry the Platypus? I promise I’m alright now, I don’t- I don’t need the panic mug.” 

You raise one eyebrow and sign ‘ _ Because that mug is for weak moments?’ _

The shock on his face when you read his mind word for word, is a little strong, and you push down the thought that apparently no one else has ever tried to talk him out of self-deprecating thoughts. 

You soften your face and shake your head and squash him down further into the couch. ‘ _ Not weak,’  _ you sign, ‘ _ Everybody breaks. It’s okay.’ _

He looks to ponder your words, at least a little bit, and that’s good enough for now. You reach for the TV remote and put on a soap you’ve both seen, at least three times, maybe four. It’s his favorite one. 

Looking back up at his face as the movie stars, you see tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He won’t cry, you know that, he only cries when things are really bad, but you raise your paw to wipe them away anyway, and he breaks out a tiny smile. 

“You knew which one was my favorite?” 

Of course you did, of course you knew. You’ve known since the twenty-third day you both took a TV break, and he showed it to you with trembling fingers, terrified you’d hate it, terrified you’d judge him for it. How could you possibly forget?

You nod and settle into his side, and he begins to stroke you absent-mindedly. 

“Thank you Perry the Platypus,” he finally says, and when you start to tell him it was nothing, he cuts you off. “No, really thank you. For um, for knowing what to do, for knowing my- my favorite.” 

And when his voice wavers again at the end you understand that no one else knows his favorite. Everyone else probably just guessed. You’d be angry but it’s too warm here, too peaceful next to Heinz. Instead of responding, you reach up and grab his sleeve, and pull his hand back down on top of you. 

“Perry the Platypus, you’re not falling asleep on me again, are you?” 

Shut up. Of course not. That would be woefully undignified and- Oh forget it. One sentimental moment already undignified the whole afternoon. Sleep it is. 

He actually has the audacity to kiss you on top of your head. “Goodnight Perry the Platypus. And thanks again.” 

You drift off into sleep with a snort, just so he knows you’ll remember, just so he knows you heard him. 

You’ll always listen to him, you’ll always know what to do. No guessing needed. Just maybe a little bit more sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!!!


End file.
